


Subliminal

by HunterusHeroicus93



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Nightmares, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterusHeroicus93/pseuds/HunterusHeroicus93
Relationships: Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

“Stiles, wake up.”  
  
Stiles opened his eyes slowly. He blinked as faces swam into view. Scott knelt beside him.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
“What happened?” Stiles asked, looking around. More faces appeared. Coach pushed his way through the group.  
  
“Stilinski, are you alright?”  
  
“Fine, Coach. Must have got knocked down pretty hard.”  
  
“Stiles, we’re in class. You passed out,” Scott told him.  
  
“Right,” Stiles said uncertainly.  
  
Scott took his arm and pulled him to his feet.  
  
“Do you need to leave?” Coach asked. Stiles shook his head.  
  
“I’m okay, Coach.”  
  
“Okay. In that case, everyone back to their seats!”  
  
The class resumed, but neither Scott nor Stiles paid much attention. Scott’s eyes were on his best friend the entire remainder of the lesson, and the latter stared at his desk, looking as though he were trying to remember something.  
  
***  
  
Lydia rushed over to them after class, looking worried.  
  
“Stiles! Are you okay? I heard what happened.”  
  
“Yeah, I’m f- how did you know?”  
  
“Everyone knows,” Lydia huffed. “News travels pretty fast when someone collapses in the middle of class.”  
  
“I didn’t, I just… momentarily lost consciousness,” Stiles argued. But of course, she was right. He’d been getting strange looks since he’d left the classroom, and people were whispering among themselves.  
  
“Stiles Stilinski, please report to the principal’s office,” the secretary called over the tannoy. Stiles groaned.  
  
“I’ll see you guys later.” He headed off, leaving Scott and Lydia to exchange worried glances.  
  
The Sheriff was waiting for him when he arrived. He immediately took hold of his son and looked at him. He appeared fine on the outside, but Noah still insisted on taking him home.  
  
“Dad, I’m fine!” Stiles insisted. “I just got dizzy for a few seconds, it happens. And I have lacrosse practice after school.”  
  
“That’s not happening. Not until I know you’re okay.” Noah escorted Stiles through the front doors as he continued to protest. They drove home in silence, and Stiles went straight to his room. He texted Scott to let him know that he wouldn’t be making it to practice.  
  
 _Dad picked me up. Call you later._ _  
__  
_He threw his phone down onto his desk and buried his head in his pillow. His phone beeped with a reply, but he ignored it. He dozed off within seconds.  
  
***  
  
“Stiles!” his dad’s voice called. “You got a visitor.”  
  
Stiles sat up, rubbing his eyes. Scott stood in his doorway, carrying a pizza.  
  
“I called, but there was no answer. Figured you could use this,” he said, holding up the box. Stiles’ stomach growled in response.  
  
“How was practice?” Stiles asked, stuffing half a slice into his mouth.  
  
“It was fine. Kind of a blur, actually. I was more concerned about you. I think Coach was, too. He went easy on us.”  
  
Stiles snorted. “I didn’t think that was possible.”  
  
Scott grinned. They ate in silence after that. Scott wanted to ask if Stiles was okay, but he already knew the answer, and he didn’t want to make his friend uncomfortable.  
  
Stiles seemed to read his mind, though. He sighed. “I’m _fine_ , Scott. Really.”  
  
Scott nodded. “Isaac asked about you. And Allison. Everyone’s really worried.”  
  
Stiles sighed, avoiding Scott’s eyes. He pushed aside the empty box and stood up.  
  
“I just haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.”  
  
“Nightmares?” Scott asked. Stiles nodded.  
  
“Insomnia, anxiety, all of it. It’s getting worse.” The last part was almost to himself, but Scott heard it anyway.  
  
Stiles turned to him. “I’m hearing things, too.”  
  
Scott frowned. “Like what?”  
  
“Like, stuff that I shouldn’t be able to. Stuff that doesn’t make any sense. People talking, but it’s like they’re far away, or in another room or something. It’s sort of muffled. I can’t make out what they’re saying.”  
  
“What else?”  
  
“There’s this sort of… humming. It’s faint, but it’s always there. Sometimes I can ignore it, or drown it out, but when it’s quiet out here…” He gestured to his head.  
  
“It’s loud in there,” Scott finished. Stiles nodded.  
  
“I think I’m going crazy. Again.”  
  
Scott stood up. “You’re not. You just need rest. Go back to bed. I’ll check on you in the morning. And I’d better not see you in school tomorrow.”  
  
“I think my dad would agree with you,” Stiles sighed. “Fine. But I’ll be back on Monday.”  
  
“Deal,” Scott grinned. He left, and Stiles lay down again, staring at the ceiling for the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

He’d finally dozed off in the early hours of the morning when he was woken by his alarm clock beeping. He groaned and reached over to shut it off. He cracked open an eye and glanced at the time.   
  
5:30 A.M.   
  
Stiles frowned. He’d never set his alarm that early, even for morning practice. He rolled over and tried to sleep again, but it was futile. He was wide awake now. The humming in his ears threatened to deafen him, so he got up and put on some music. The noise lessened, and he relaxed. His bed seemed warmer and softer, and he closed his eyes, feeling more comfortable than he had in weeks.   
  
His dad knocked at his door a few hours later.   
  
“Hey, Stiles.”   
  
Stiles looked up. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”   
  
The Sheriff made his way into the room and shut the door. Stiles sat up, sensing something was wrong. Noah pulled over the desk chair and sat. He was silent for a few minutes.   
  
“I can’t let this go on, Stiles.”   
  
“What?”   
  
“You. You’ve got everyone on edge. We need you back, son. We need you to get better.”   
  
“What are you saying?” Stiles’ voice shook. The humming grew louder.   
  
“We need you to get better,” Noah said again. “Please, son.” His voice cracked, and he choked back a sob. “Please wake up.”   
  
“What are you talking about?” Stiles was scared now. He stood and backed away from the Sheriff, looking around the room. The walls melted away into a bright white room with no windows.   
  
“What the- ?” He shivered as he recognised it as the room he was locked in at Eichen House. “No…”   
  
He headed towards the door and pounded on it. “Let me out!”   
  
His dad’s voice came from the other side. “It’s going to be okay, son. You just have to wake up. Just wake up.”   
  
“I can’t! Dad, what’s happening? I can’t wake up!” Stiles sobbed. “Dad!”   
  
“Just wake up.” The voice grew fainter, and Stiles began to panic.   
  
“Wake up,” he muttered to himself. “Wake up. Wake up!”   
  
The scream burst from his lungs as he shot up in bed. His door flew open and his dad wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly. Stiles screamed and cried until his throat burned, and Noah held him until he’d stopped shaking.   
  
“I couldn’t wake up,” he whispered.   
  
Noah stroked his hair. “I know, son. It’s okay. You’re okay now.”   
  
“I don’t want to go back. Don’t make me go back, Dad.”   
  
“You’re not going anywhere. I promise.”   
  
Stiles drew a shuddering breath, then relaxed. He clung to his father the way he had when he was ten years old, and Noah stayed with him until he was able to sleep again.   
  
***   
  
The weekend passed uneventfully. Scott, Lydia and Allison paid him a visit, and he felt brighter and happier than ever. Saturday was spent watching movies, and on Sunday, the Sheriff took them all out for Mexican. Stiles began to believe things were getting better, and he was actually looking forward to school on Monday.   
  
That was when things took a turn for the worse.   
  
Scott and Stiles showed up early to lacrosse practice so Stiles could get a head start on warming up. He took a deep breath and focused, picking up the ball. Scott watched his movements closely, trying to determine which way he was going to shoot. Stiles charged and launched the ball right over Scott’s head and into the net. Scott laughed and clapped his friend on the back.   
  
“Looks like the long weekend did you some good,” he grinned.   
  
“Yeah,” Stiles laughed. “Maybe I can actually kick your -”   
  
He broke off suddenly, covering his ears and grimacing.   
  
“Stiles? What’s wrong?”   
  
“It’s… so loud,” Stiles said through gritted teeth.   
  
“What is it?”   
  
“I don’t know. It’s like a truck reversing or something. I can’t hear…” He dropped to his knees, pressing his hands tightly to his head.   
  
Scott dropped beside him. He reached out, then stopped, not knowing what to do.   
  
“Stiles, look at me. It’s okay. Just focus on my voice, okay? Just listen to me.”   
  
Stiles shook his head. “It’s too loud. It’s getting louder, and faster. Scott, make it stop!”   
  
“I…” Scott looked around desperately for help, but no one else was there. As he was trying to think of something, a scream pierced the air. He got to his feet, searching for the source of the sound.   
  
“Lydia?”   
  
They were alone. He looked back down at Stiles, who had dropped his hands and was breathing heavily. He stood up shakily, Scott bracing him as he swayed.   
  
“What the hell was that?” Stiles asked.   
  
“It was Lydia. Come on, we’d better find her.” Scott pulled Stiles back towards the school, more eager than ever to find out what was happening.   
  
The building was empty and dark. It was almost 8:00 A.M., yet nobody was around.   
  
“Where is everyone?” Stiles asked. Scott didn’t reply. He had no answer.   
  
Instead, he called Lydia’s name. His voice echoed through the deserted hallways, but no response came.   
  
“The science labs,” he decided. They hurried to the classroom and entered, only to find it as abandoned as the rest of them. Scott sighed and pulled out his phone to call Lydia. Stiles stepped into the room and walked slowly towards the chalkboard.   
  
“Scott…”   
  
Scott put his phone away after an unsuccessful call and looked up. Stiles stood in front of the board, staring at it. Scott made his way over.   
  
“What the…?”   
  
The words “WAKE UP” were scrawled across the board in Stiles’ handwriting.   
  
Stiles stepped backwards, stumbling slightly. His breath caught in his throat and he grasped at a desk for support as his knees buckled.   
  
“Scott, I can’t wake up.”   
  
“Focus, Stiles. Breathe. Open your eyes,” Scott said calmly.   
  
Stiles shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t wake up…”   
  
“Open your eyes, Stiles. You can do it.”   
  
Stiles took a deep breath and slowly began to open them. The light burned and he squeezed them shut again.   
  
“Stiles, it’s okay. Just open your eyes. It’s going to be okay.”   
  
Scott’s voice relaxed him, and he tried again, even more slowly this time. The light hurt, but not as badly. His vision blurred, but he could just make out Scott’s face.   
  
“Scott…?” His voice was hoarse, and he wasn’t sure if he’d made any sound at all.   
  
“Don’t talk, Stiles. Not yet. It’s gonna be okay.”   
  
Stiles became aware of more faces around him. He glanced at each of them, only vague shapes in the harsh brightness. His dad, Lydia, Melissa, Allison, and Isaac.   
  
He wanted to ask what they were all doing there, but he remembered Scott’s warning not to talk. The humming in his ears was still there, accompanied by a slow beeping noise. But it sounded different now. Before, it was inside his head. Now, it seemed to be on the outside. He tilted his head to the left. Machines and wires surrounded him. He looked back at Scott, confused.   
  
“It’s okay, Stiles. You’re in the hospital,” Scott smiled faintly, his eyes full of relief.   
  
A hand closed around his, and he looked down, following the arm attached to it upwards until he found the owner.   
  
“You had everyone really worried, kiddo,” the Sheriff said. A tear dripped onto his shirt, and Stiles wanted to reach towards him, but he felt heavy. “Don’t worry. You’re going to be okay now.”   
  
“We’re still working on the Jeep, though,” Isaac grinned. Lydia laughed softly. The sound was beautiful to Stiles, and he looked around until he found her face. She was smiling at him, but it was clear she had been crying a lot.   
  
“What... happened?” he croaked.   
  
Concern flickered across her face, but she maintained her smile. “You were in a bad car accident. A drunk driver hit you at a junction.” She stopped, but Stiles sensed there was more. He looked at the others. Melissa was the one to speak this time.   
  
“You’ve been in a coma for almost a month, Stiles. You had some pretty extensive injuries. A broken arm, shattered ribs, among others. You were in surgery for sixteen hours after they brought you in.”   
  
Stiles throat constricted, and he began to sob. He clenched the fist he was able to move, winding his fingers into the sheets.   
  
Scott looked up at Melissa, and she nodded.   
  
“Come on, you three,” she said to Allison, Lydia, and Isaac. “He needs time and rest. You can come back tomorrow.” They left with one last, sympathetic smile at Stiles. Lydia kissed his forehead softly, not trusting herself to speak.   
  
Stiles stared at the ceiling as Scott and Noah sat in silence, patiently waiting for him to come to terms with what he had been told.   
  
“So…” he started slowly. “I’ve been in here… for a month?”   
  
“That’s right, son,” the Sheriff nodded.   
  
“But I…”   
  
“What is it?” Scott asked.   
  
“You were trying to help me. I thought I was going crazy. I couldn’t wake up. I kept trying, and I couldn’t do it. You kept telling me to wake up.” He looked at his dad. “You both did. You told me you needed me to get better, you needed me back.”   
  
“You were dreaming. Your subconscious was trying to bring you back,” Noah explained. “You fought hard.” He squeezed Stiles’ hand. “You fought, and you came back to us.”   
  
Stiles exhaled slowly. He didn’t think he fully understood, but he didn’t care anymore. The two most important people in his life were with him, and he felt safe again.   
  
The soft humming and beeping of the machine beside his bed lulled him back into a dreamless sleep, which he let wash over him willingly, knowing his best friend and his father would still be there when he woke.


End file.
